


Who Says Revenge Is Best Served Cold?

by Sundiver



Series: Sundiver's Steter Week 2018 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dead McCall Pack, Dead Sheriff Stilinski, First Meetings, Jordan Parrish & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Mafia AU, Not warning who the villian is in the tags deliberately, Pre-Slash, Revenge, Steter - Freeform, Steter Week, Steter Week 2018, The Stilinskis appopted Parrish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 14:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15462999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sundiver/pseuds/Sundiver
Summary: Day Seven: Werewolves are knownStiles wants revenge, and if he had to go through the entirety of the New York crime world to get it – so be it. Even if it costs him his life, he’s taking her out.





	Who Says Revenge Is Best Served Cold?

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you, lovely people don’t hate me too much for what I did in BH for this fic. This is my last participation in Stater Week 2018. Hope you enjoy it.  
> Also, English is not my first language, and my works for the Steter Week are not yet beta read. All mistakes are mine and mine alone. As soon as my wonderful beta Blinc43 does her magic I’ll fix the stories.  
> Oh, I have tumblr now!  
> http://sundiver4steter.tumblr.com/

 

‘Jesus, this was going to be impossible!’ Stiles signed to Jordan using discreet ASL.

‘You can do it’ Jordan signed back ‘Just keep calm’.

Keep calm. Easy for Jordan to say.

Four hundred people, human and were and every other type of supernatural have gathered on this venue. Everybody who was somebody in the New York world of organized crime had shown up at this event. Four hundred people were attending the venue and every single one of them would be glad to see him dead if they knew who he was, what he was. Stiles was crashing the engagement party of the son of one of the six main New York crime families, who were also werewolves, by the way, intending to arrest the bride-to-be.

He was going to be killed, if not tonight - in the very near future.

Talia Hale had the reputation of clawing first and asking questions never. More like she gave the orders, her brother did the clawing.

Never mind he was saving the Hales and every other crime family in New York from imminent death.

Never mind the bride-to-be was pretending to be someone else. And Stiles didn’t mean just taking a false identity. She was also a corrupt FBI agent, and in Stiles book – a serial killer. Stiles, however, was a mere homicide detective, with no jurisdiction whatsoever, accept the shaky ‘hot pursuit’ clause.

Actually, that was kind of giving him the right to do it. Never mind – he was panicking, he should be pardoned for not thinking clearly.

But honestly, Stiles did not mind ending dead once he take _her_ out. Lydia and Jordan very much minded, and planned the operation so he would survive. Or so they thought. Stiles knew better, and he made his piece with it.

He was almost dead when Jordan dragged him out the pit of depression spiraling into alcoholism and self-destruction after Dad died. He had been already suspended, when Jordan showed up. A week more alone with his thoughts, and Stiles would had swallowed his own gun. But Jordan had shown up, with a name and an undisputable evidence. _She_ might be FBI, but there was no way he was letting _her_ get away with murder this time. _She_ was going down, she and her entire unit of corrupted government officials, and everybody else who ever provided them cover. Stiles didn’t care if he lived or died. He didn’t care that by stopping _her_ he was saving the entirety of the crime world of New York from questionable form of justice in the eyes of the public. Fuck the public. Fuck the justice system. Fuck the FBI. And fuck the crime world.

The only thing he cared about was he was putting Dad’s killer down – either himself, or setting on a handful of crime lords after her. This is why he chose to do this at the engagement party. She was too well protected by her fiancé and his Family, but the public humiliation of his Family would secure her fate. Never mind he was the one doing the actual humiliating. He’d be dead, one way or the other, no matter what Jordan thought. Never mind what he and Lydia had planned. Lydia planned for a win. Stiles planned for everything. And he made plans, hid them in other plans, hidden in yet other plans. Jordan was right, he had this.

Stiles took a deep breath, hidden by the pillar near the balcony of the big ball room at the Hale mansion, and tried to suppress the shaking of his hands. He desperately needed some fresh air to calm the fuck down, but he also needed to not let her out of his sight.

The ball room was all velvet and marble and bronze, fitting for the venue of this caliber. Posh and ridiculously expensive. The Hales were showing off their wealth as it was expected. Also, there was security everywhere. Stiles had managed to sneak a single knife in – it was really stressful to go through the check-up, he was so scared he would be found - and had to rely on his magic. Never mind, his magic would hold strong, no matter how many magic users were also attending the venue. They will be caught in surprise and even if they go for him afterwards, well… he had a banshee and a hell-hound for back-up. Druids and witches needed time and ingredients to work their mojo. Sparks did not. And Stiles was not some measly spark, he was a power-house. He could hold them off for long enough to deal with _her_.

Fighting in a three piece suit, however, would be a bitch, but fighting in an evening dress should be a bitch too, so he suppose they were somewhat even. He had to get rid of the shoes as soon as possible, though, the flat soles were utterly useless in chasing someone on marble or gleaming polished wood. Or grass. Or gravel. Or asphalt. Never mind, barefoot will do, he planned for this already and had a spell prepared. He had this.

“Good evening. May I introduce myself?” a velvety smooth voice came in his ear, startling him bad. Stiles whirled toward the impeccably dressed, incredibly handsome, almost god-like man standing next to him and smiling. Dear Lord!

“I am Peter Hale, your soul mate. And who might you be?” the man was smiling openly at him.

Stiles just stared in the blue eyes of the Hale Chief Enforcer, his heart racing a mile a minute, his breath coming out shorter and shorter. Jesus, he was having a panic attack. Come to think of it, if there is an appropriate time to have a panic attack, it was most certainly now, some part of his brain thought almost hysterically.

A shadow of a worry passed over the man’s face and the gentle, tender smile he was giving Stiles started to slip off his face, and – oh, God – genuine concern was replacing it. Peter Hale was concerned for him! And before that he had sounded delighted to… to…

Mate! Oh, God, Peter had said ‘mate’!

Stiles couldn’t breathe. All he could do was stare in the man’s blue eyes. Blue like the sky in the crisp winter noon. Blue like ice. Blue like sapphires. Blue like Stiles favorite color. Blue like Dad’s eyes. Blue. Dad! Everything went dark, but Stiles kept his consciousness. For now. Not only he had panic attacks, he got hysterical blindness to go with them. Jesus, he was going to pass out!

“Sir, please, step away from my brother.”

Jordan. That was Jordan coming to his rescue.

One hand on his neck, one hand on his chest.

“Jayce, calm down, you’re having a panic attack. Here, breathe with me. Inhale, and hold. One, two, three, four. Exhale and hold. One, two. Inhale, and hold. One, two, three, and four…”

Jordan was there, Jordan was getting him out of this. Jordan was standing between him and the wolf…

Stiles wanted to laugh hysterically, because the wolf wasn’t sensing the lie. He _was_ Jayce at that moment, for _this_. The three of them were conditioned to fit their roles, to become who they pretended to be. Just as _she_ was conditioned for _hers_. Lying to werewolves was easy when you get the hang of it.

Stiles was coming back to himself slowly, but his vision was still darkened and blurry.

“I’m sorry, I regret to admit that I might be the cause of your… brother you said?... anxiety” his mate – Jesus, Peter Hale, the Hale Shadow Wolf, The Hale’s Executioner, the man with a kill count nearing triple digits, was his _soul mate_ – was explaining, warm and polite and no threatening at all, worry for Stiles in his voice.

“My name is Peter Hale. You probably have heard of me and know I’m a werewolf. I’ve scented that your brother is my mate and approached him. I apologize. I understand this must be quite the shock for him. I’ll leave you for now to calm him down. Here, please take my card and give it to him when he calms down. I very much would like to meet with him in more relaxed setting. You know how we, wolves, are about our mates. Before I go, may I ask his name?”

There was a pause while Jordan was debating how best to lie without being caught on it.

“His name is Miechislav, but he hates it. He goes by Jayce. My name is Jordan, Jordan Thompson. It’s an inside joke in our family. Jayce and Jordy – Double J.”

No lies there. Stiles had considered Jordan his big brother for years, and Jordan did the same. And Jordan felt the same – both for Stiles and Dad. The Stilinskis had adopted the lone Parrish in their own way and considered him family. The feeling was mutual.

But, Jesus, Parrish had given the Hale Stiles’ real name!!!

Peter’s voice then, worried.

“This anxiety, is it serious problem? Would he be able to stay? I would very much like to introduce him to my family after the main event is over.”

Jordan hesitated for a moment.

“We will stay. He just needs a few minutes. It’s not very serious, he doesn’t have them often, but he has conversion disorder, also known as hysterical blindness. He loses his sight when he has panic attacks. It started when our dad was killed.”

There was a low growl that cut abruptly.

“My condolences.” Came the somewhat stilted voice of Peter Hale. “We will talk later. Let me leave you to calm him down. I would once again stress how much I would like for you two to stay after the party and meet my family and myself. This is a very joyous occasion for every wolf, but me especially.”

There was a pause then. Probably Peter was looking at him.

“I have been waiting for him for a long time. Please, Mr. Thompson.”

Good God, the Hale’s Executioner was _pleading_ with them to stay. Stiles anxiety spiked again.

“We’ll stay” Jordan assured, and then they were alone.

‘Calm down. Stay focused on the task.’ The index finger on Stiles chest tapped in Morse code.

It took Stiles several minutes to gather himself and tap back.

‘I will. He just blindsided me.’

Jordan couldn’t contain his snort, and Stiles, despite he couldn’t see yet, grinned at his general direction. Blindsided. Stiles was hilarious, he knew.

Then Jordan hesitantly tapped on his chest.

‘Does this change anything? He said he is your mate?’

Stiles wouldn’t allow himself to think about it. He had found his soul mate. But Dad wasn’t there to see it.

‘No. The plan is a go’ he tapped back.

***

 

Apparently, the news that Peter Hale had found his mate had spread like wild fire. Also, apparently, the news said mate has anxiety issues had spread as well. They, and more specifically he – although Jordan was getting plenty of attention as well – were getting so many curious looks that Stiles felt almost ready to jump out of his skin.

That was not part of the plan.

But no one had approached them, and that was good.

Stiles had felt several types of magic discreetly brush against him, finding his charm bracelet, examining it and retreating. All the magic users had found was thick layers of calming and ADHD-suppressing spells.

Apparently that was enough for the druids and the witches. There was no actual reason for them to dig deeper into the charm’s content. Besides, Stiles paranoia had hidden the something extra the charm carried too deep for it to be easily found.

And in the hour the official ceremonies and speeches commenced, Stiles had the time to figure out how to turn the unwanted attention in their favor. This would be even better, even _sweeter_ than the original plan.

Calm.

Patience.

Serenity.

Joy.

It was hard for Stiles to keep it all together, so close to his final go almost in his grasp, his final destination – so near, _she_ – in hand’s reach.

But he somehow managed it.

When the last speaker had finished with their speech congratulating the newly engaged couple, Stiles stood up and gently tapped his dinner knife at the stem of his wine glass to garner everyone’s attention. As soon as he had gotten up four different members of the security had moved at his direction, but with one gesture from Peter and a low command in his mouth piece, the security had stopped in their tracks.

‘ _This is for you, Dad_.’ Stiles thought ‘This is for you, Scotty’.

He looked at each person at the table at the other end of the room.

Derek Hale looked so besotted with _her_ that Stiles felt almost guilty for what he was about to do.

His eyes shifted through the rest of the table.

Peter Hale was giving him a small, soft smile, so were Talia Hale and her daughter Laura. Cora Hale was frowning at him, probably unhappy he was about to speak and overshadow her brother’s big moment. The rest of the Hales on the main table were giving him various versions of curiosity-mixed-with-fondness looks.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Stiles still wondered over the fact Lydia had managed to get them on the guest list for real, and that they didn’t have to resort to forgery and hacking.

Everything was coming together so nicely!

Stiles took a deep breath and spoke in the silence – all eyes on him, _hers_ included.

“Thank you, Alpha Hale, for the opportunity given to me and my family to participate and share your happiness in this joyous occasion” he began and gave the Alpha a shallow bow. Talia smile warmed even further and she nodded in return. “Thank you, everybody, for being here to celebrate the joy the happy couple shares in this day.”

He made a pause for theatrics, knowing Jordan was practically vibrating on his seat for him going off the script like that. Probably Lydia was too, wherever she was seated.

‘Never put all your eggs in one basket’ Stiles reminded himself.

But the chase was coming to an end. It was almost – almost! – over. He just had to play _this_ part right, and he would have his revenge. They would have their revenge. It wasn’t only him who had lost the people he loved.

All attention was on him now. He was almost giddy, he felt like his sixteen years old when they had won the state championship.

_Focus, Stiles! Stay on task!_

“Also, thank you for the opportunity of sharing and witnessing my own moment of joy and triumph.”

He looked straight at _her_. _She_ frowned, uncertain.

“My name is Miechislav Genim Stilinski” he told her and the room at large, and paused for a second for the name to register. Peter’s face changed into a frown, but that didn’t matter at the moment.

As soon as _her_ eyes widened in shock he released the spell, paralyzing every person in the room but her. Somehow, his magic bounced off _her_ , but Stiles mentally waved it aside. It didn’t matter. He had fifteen seconds to do this.

_Yes!_

He raised his badge and proclaimed with clear ringing voice, amplified by his magic.

“LAPD, Homicide” he stated.

And then he allowed himself to grin at her. It was a vicious, almost feral grin of triumph, worthy of a wolf who just had taken his pray down and torn its throat out.

“Federal Agent Katherine Elisabeth Argent, you are under arrest for the murder of Sheriff Johnathan Stilinski, the manslaughter of the Ketsune clan Noshiko and Ken Yakimura and the manslaughter of the McCall pack in Beacon Hills, California, namely Alpha Scott McCall, Beta Malia Tate, Beta Liam Dumbar, Beta Brett Talbot, Beta Ketsune Kira Yukimura, Beta Human Mayson Huwitt, Beta Human Corey Briant, and Beta Human Melissa McCall.” Stiles grin widened even further – no mirth, all teeth - and he added his own two cents to the speech. “Where is your daddy and your hunter buddies now, Katie? No one to save you, is there, Sweetie pie?” then he went back to his speech. “You have the right to remain silent…”

And this was as far as he got. Kate Argent jumped on her feet and threw something in the middle of the room. The thing exploded in a cloud of wolfs bane gas. ‘How quaint’ Stiles thought but he was already moving. Jordan had jumped and his hell fire was eating up the poison. Stiles’ ten seconds ended and all Hell broke loose in the ball room. A banshee scream pierced the air and all the glass and porcelain in the room, windows included – exploded. Both humans and supernatural duck to the floor, hands covering their ears, with the exception of Jordan, Stiles and Lydia herself. But also - Kate. Why was that, Stiles wondered. Before everyone could get on their feet Kate had vanished in a side door, Stiles – a second behind her.

 

***

 

The final showdown happened two miles from the Hale residence, in a clearing in the surrounding woods.

Kate was good. Kate was better than him, but Stiles had known that all along. The original plan, the main plan, had been for him to have Parrish and Lydia by his side to take her down, but Stiles had known this wouldn’t happen.

Stiles was a planner and loved to cheat the system. Plans within plans within plans.

He had known Parrish and Lydia would have hard time keeping the wolves away, so they would be occupied when he faced Kate alone.

He had known how this story would end from the start. She would kill him. If he was lucky, and the adrenalin rush would hold, they would kill each other.

He was okay with it, had nothing to live for any more.

Granted, he had just found his soul mate, but he would be damned, if he would give up avenging Dad for a stranger, who, according to the rumors was ruthless enough to move through obstacles with deadly efficiency, even if those obstacles turned up to be family. All Hales were like that. According to rumors, Talia Hale had ordered her own mate executed after he betrayed her.

Stiles could only imagine the pain of that. But he was sure the Hale Alpha neither wanted, nor needed a mare human’s sympathy. Moreover, if she knew about it she would probably tear his throat out in outrage. But he wouldn’t do _that_ to his mate. Call him stupid, call him a romantic idiot, but he wouldn’t let Peter Hale to have to kill him.

He didn’t own the man anything, and judging by his reputation, the Hale’s Shadow Wolf didn’t need his feelings spared. But in Stiles’ mind it was like having to kill Dad. Or Jordy, or Lydia or Scott. And since they were mates, it would probably feel like having to kill everybody he loved and some. No one, even the Hale Enforcer deserved that. He didn’t save the man – no matter how inadvertently - for nothing. He had to make sure Kate will kill him before she ran off.

Stiles was bleeding from a dozen wounds, and was pretty sure he had a perforated kidney. But none of this mattered. All that was important was bringing Kate down.

“You’re no match for me” the bitch hissed, circling him with her knife, but Stiles just smiled viciously at her with bloody teeth and spat a gob of blood at her direction.

“What I did up there suggests otherwise, Kate” he gloated. “Do you think that the Hales will leave you alone after this? _Any_ of you? You are dead, Kate, you, and your entire unit, you are all dead. Even if you go into hiding, the Hales will find you and take you down one by one. Game over, bitch.”

“And do you think the dogs will let _you and_ _your_ _friends_ go?” she sneered at him, but he sneered right back.

“What do you think a bunch of werewolves can do to a hell hound and a banshee?” he shot back.

She screamed her frustration and attacked, he parried with his bleeding hand, but the knife found an opening and plunged into his lungs, but he managed to pierce her tie. An inch to the left and he would have cut the femoral artery, but no luck. Kate retreated.

“And you think they will let you live?” she panted at him. “After you publicly humiliated them? Do you think the Guard dog will spare you, just because you are his mate?”

Stiles laughed at her.

“Of course not! We haven’t even bonded! He’ll gut me as soon as he finds me!”

Kate was startled by his words and Stiles used the distraction. They clashed, exchanged blows and stabs and disengaged again – Stiles, again worse for wear, but she was bleeding badly too.

“I’ll kill you” the Bitch hissed at him.

“I count on it” he smiled back at her. “It would spare Peter of killing his own mate.”

Kate’s face scrunched in disgust.

“Are you trying to spare this mutt’s feelings? You disgust me!”

Stiles chuckled lowly at her.

“At least I hadn’t spread my legs for a mutt, before I kill him and his entire family. _You_ disgust me, Kate, you’re nothing but a common whore, letting something that revolts you inside your body, just to get what you want. You make me nauseous!”

They clashed again, this time, by some miracle Stiles manage to get away without any new wounds. Kate, however wasn’t that lucky. Stiles was pretty sure it was his turn to fuck up one of her kidneys.

“It would have been worth it!” she screamed at him. “I was so close to taking the dogs down, all the dogs in the city, and you fuck it all up! I have spent two years of my life planning this, and you ruined it!”

“Should have left the small town pack well enough alone” he retorted. “You are deranged, Kate, you, your father, and all your followers.”

“They are monsters!” Kate screamed.

“No, Kate, they are wolves and they are people. The only monster here is you.” Stiles was sensing other people approaching.

“You fucking dog-lover!” she screamed and came at him again.

This fight was taking too long, Stiles thought. This was the real world, not the movies, and a knife fight in the real world usually took only seconds. Was she dragging it out? Or maybe he did? May be his disregard to his own life was keeping him going. He had lost too much blood already and couldn’t think clearly any more. And he couldn’t figure why his magic was bouncing off her. He should have…

And then it clicked.

“You fucking whore!” he lost it, threw himself at her in wild fury, just stabbing, no matter what damage she was doing back “You killed him and you dare to wear his amulet?! I’ll fucking kill you!”

But then her knife plunged in his chest and she left it there. With one kick in the knee Stiles was on the ground, looking at the night sky, dying. And Kate ran.

There was no coming back from this. But no matter. What mattered what _she_ had done.

He gathered his last strength, just as Jordan’s face appeared in his field of vision, chanting “no, no, no, no”. Stiles reach to the magic in his Father’s amulet in the distance, dangling from his killer’s wrist. If he had figured it out earlier, he could have survived this. But then there would be Peter. No, this way was better.

The amulet. He made it himself. The trinket that was supposed to protect Dad from everything but a shot in the head. He remembered the rainy day three years ago when his father’s close casket was lowered into the ground.

Stiles was glad the amulet didn’t work for her, no matter that she had kept it as a trophy, except for repelling his – and his own Packs’ - magic. It would have been too much if it had worked the way it had worked for his Dad.

Stiles _pulled_ at his magic.

A wild scream tore through the night and Stiles smiled at the stars above.

Then there was Lydia, and other people, but it was too late for him, far too late. He was so tired, but he was smiling. Kate was done. _He_ had done _her_.

Then the people parted, and Peter Hale came into his line of sight.

“A parting gift for you, love” the wolf said to him, and there was immense sadness in his eyes. Stiles was happy Kate had finished him so Peter wouldn’t have to.

The wolf dragged the barely alive body of Kate Argent for him to see her final moments.

Stiles eyes focused for the last time at the wrist his father’s amulet had been. The hand was cut clear off, the stump - charred and still smoking.

Take that, bitch.

“Thanks” he barely managed through the blood pouring out of his mouth.

Lydia jumped up, strode to Peter, grabbed Kate by one shoulder and _screamed_ at her.

And then there was piece at last.

The last thing Stiles saw was the headless corpse of his Dad’s killer hitting the ground.

 

***

 

Stiles experienced the shock of his life when he woke up in a hospital. To the red-eyed alpha stare of one Talia Hale. Apparently every Emissary at the engagement party – all ten of them – had worked to get him alive and stable enough for the modern medicine to take over. He even had to keep his kidney!

And then he experienced the second shock of his life when Talia Hale _thanked_ him and offered him a place in her pack, alongside Jordan and Lydia who had already accepted.

Stiles declined for now and explained his mind was not in the right place to be a part of anything right now. He explained he felt empty. He felt like he had lost his purpose in life once _she_ was dead. He was not supposed to live beyond the confrontation with Kate.

Talia smiled sadly and showed him the recorder he had been wearing during the fight that had captured both Kate’s and his confessions.

“What about Peter?” Talia asked.

Stiles shook his head sadly.

“Alpha Hale, please understand, right now I can’t be a good mate to him” he pleaded. “I’m so fucked up in the head that I can’t be around people at all. I need time. I’ll come back, I promise, but I need to have _something_ to offer him. My sanity at least!”

Talia chuckled.

“Well, you have time. He’s away dealing with the rest of the Argents and their followers”.

That alarmed Stiles.

“Please, spare Christopher and Allison! They are innocent in all this and they helped us get to Kate!”

“We know” Talia smiled. “Miss Martin have told me. Victoria Argent and I will never see eye to eye, but I’m pardoning her too. The other two Argents are okay, according to my daughter Laura. Victoria and Cristopher are getting a divorce. Turns out Chris is Laura’s mate.”

Stiles’ eyes bugged out.

“Wow! Poor Gerard! Karma’s a bitch, huh?” was his eloquent response. Then he added. “Gerard being the mastermind and all, could you tell Peter to get me a souvenir from him? An eyeball or a wrist bones or something?”

Instead of being disturbed by this, Talia smiled viciously and promised she will pass the message along.

He imagined a single eyeball, bobbing up and down in jar full with formaldehyde. He imagined the eyeball would be taken out first, before the actual torture Peter Hale was famous for even started. He wanted to cuddle the jar. Yeah, Stiles definitely was not right in the head.

Apparently, his mental state was highly contagious, because his hospital room became New York Crime Central, with almost the entirety of the crime world of the city visiting to thank him and kept sending him fruit baskets, flowers and chocolates.

Alpha Ito came to thank him for avenging the Yakimuras. Apparently Satomi Ito and Noshiko Yakimura had been friends before the ketsune had moved her clan to Beacon Hills.

Alpha Deucalion Blackwood had the goal to offer him the place in _his_ pack, over Talia Hale’s head.

“Are you people all insane!?” Stiles exclaimed. “I’m LAPD detective, for Goodness sake!” to which Deucalion just chuckled.

“Sanity is overrated” was the Alpha’s retort.

Stiles gave up.

He signed himself out of the hospital two weeks later not letting anyone know what he was doing, and went back to L.A. He resigned from the Force. He was so disillusioned with the judicial system and the cover its various members provided _her_ with. It had burned the last of his Dad’s teachings out of Stiles. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with his life now.

Stiles went back to Beacon Hills, to visit his Dad and Scott and the gang. Visit their graves, that is, and tried to sort his life out. His savings would last him a year, if he was careful before he would have to go looking for work.

Lydia and Jordan called him every day. He never picked up.

 

***

“Do you have any idea how _hard_ it is to find a spark that doesn’t want to be found?”

It was six months after Stiles left L.A. for Beacon Hills and currently his mate was pinning him to a brick wall in a dark alley, at two in the morning – wolfed out and snarling in his face. Stiles just blinked at him speechless.

“First, I had to deal with those two insufferable alphas, Ennis and Kali, over the phone, mind you, because, you know – with East and West rivalry and all – I’m not allowed to set my foot in California! Then every source I had on the west coast refused, - _refused! -_ to give me any info _on my own mate_!”

Wow, Peter was so pissed he was practically throating at the mouth.

“I had to construct an entire new identity, so I can go to L.A. to look for _my mate_ in person! And what do I find there, hum? My mate had thrown down his resignation and had fucked off who knows where!”

The wolf was panting in Stiles face, but his clawed hands, pinning Stiles shoulders to the wall were surprisingly gentle.

“And apparently my dumb-ass of a mate had casted ‘don’t see me’ spell on himself, so no one even knew you were in Beacon Hills all this time! Do you have any idea how frustrating is to try to triangulate your whereabouts by a barely-there mate pull, huh?”

Stiles just blinked at him again.

“What are you doing here, Peter?” he blurted out finally, and the wolf just growled in his face again in frustration.

“You didn’t hear any of that, did you?”

“Any of what? What are you talking about?”

Urgh, Peter’s mate was so infuriating he wasn’t sure if he wanted to throttle him or to kiss him stupid. Wait, if Stiles got any stupider than he already was, Lydia would kill Peter when they get back to New York.

“I came” he started forcefully calm “to collect my mate and bring him home, because the dumb kid wouldn’t come home on his own!” the last bit was growl-shouted in Stiles face.

“Who are you calling ‘dumb kid’?” Stiles was indignant.

Okay, evidently the level of stupidity had hit the rock bottom already, so ‘kissing stupid’ it is.

 


End file.
